Say What You Want About Me
by little crocodile tears
Summary: In Traverse Town, a small district of metro New York, big things are happening. Especially if you're on the front page of the newspaper making out with the governor's son. RUN, RIKU, RUN. AU Sora/Riku
1. Chapter 1

**The characters featured belong to Square Enix. I'm a broke college kid that owns a computer named Toe and that's about it.**

**And, Alana you rock my spaceboots. **

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"Riku, get your ass in here!"

Unfortunately, said Riku was too busy dreaming to hear his editor's voice penetrating through his office's glass doors and echoing loud enough that seven or eight reporters actually _paused_ to make sure Cid was not yelling at them. Still, the silver haired man slept on. Beneath his desk his leg kicked much like a puppy's would as it dreamed of running in golden fields. He grunted, and rutted around for a few more minutes until hands grabbed the back of his chair and shook it violently.

Riku jerked up and slammed his palms on the desk and looked wildly around to see if anyone else was experiencing the earthquake. To his chagrin, _his_ chair was the only chair that shimmied like an overweight Burlesque dancer. Severely overweight to the point of a 'yo momma' joke.

"You're drooling on your camera, boy." That had the photographer wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt and frantically checking his camera over. Cid's laughter and big hand clapping on his shoulder only had Riku scowling. There were two important things about Riku that any Riku-handler would have to know. One, there was no touching his camera, and two, there was no _joking_ around or about said camera. (She was very sensitive.)

"About time you effin' woke up. What do I look like? Someone who runs a nursery? Shit, no. I can't handle the effin' brats. Disgusting little twits that _drool._ Do I look like the kind o' man who'd be changing some little shitter's diapers?" With his arms folded over his chest like that, Cid looked the part of the 'doesn't-take-shit' editor of the _Traverse Times_. Even when he edited himself because Shera gave him an ultimatum, either he drop the 'f-word' or she packs her bags. Which Cid knew that she would not leave, and Shera knew that Cid would not stop cussing, but they both figured it was worth a shot.

"No, Cid. You would never change someone's diapers," the question had been rhetorical but Riku could not help but reply with a smirk. The sarcasm was lost on Cid as he nodded and muttered a 'damn skippy I don't.' Satisfied that Riku would not try to fall asleep in his presence the blond man handed him his new assignment and clapped his shoulder.

Riku's eye twitched and he tried to hunch in with the attempt to minimize the brutal force, but that did not stop Cid's powerful 'I'm-not-gay' pat. The photographer decided that there were two types of touching in a man's world. The 'I'm-not-gay' pat or hug, which consists of a loose hug and lots of clapping on the back. In theory, the hugger would be able to hug and still seem straight as long as he beat the huggee to death. And, there was the 'I'm-totally-gay' hug which consisted of a full-body hug. Similar to the kind of hugs that girls give. Riku was a 'I'm-totally-gay' hugger, but he certainly did not appreciate Cid's dose of 'I'm-not-gay' patting. The photographer was not going to jump someone's bones just because they were of the same sex.

Besides, Cid was old and a smoker. Riku _hated_ smokers.

Once his editor was gone, he squinted and read his new mission. (He felt if he called them _missions _then it was like he was a super hero, which made stalking starlets and celebutants not quite so lame.) According to this paper he'd be put on Gullwing duty. Which was fine. It was only the busiest strip of bars in Traverse Town and was definitely the most notorious for having underage starlets misbehaving in the streets. Though, he could not help but have a little sigh of defeat because he'd gotten his degree in photography because he'd wanted to take pictures of nature and beautiful things not to photograph a concrete world where beautiful creatures destroyed themselves. But, art didn't pay the bills and stupid children did, so he was stuck.

"Hey, Riku. Will I see you on Dragon's--"

"Gullwing."

"Hey man. That's _great! _You get to hang out with Kairi and Naminé and--"

"Axel you know we aren't _supposed _to contact them, right? We're just _supposed_ to take pictures." Riku was almost out of the door-- _almost_, but that delinquent with a serious character flaw had to open his mouth and laugh. He _laughed_. Riku turned around, his fist tightening up as Axel leaned over the little wall that separated his desk from Riku's.

"This is why _I_ get all the front page pictures and _you_ get all of the 'Joe-Schmo just rescued this the pretty little kitty from the big tall tree.' Get real man. _Photographers_ follow the rules and _paparazzi_ go the distance."

Riku wanted to argue that he was a photographer, but the grinning redhead made him want to get a front page picture for once. Just so he could prove that _photographers_ can get the shot too. Instead of telling Axel to go shove his face in a blender, he opted to shake his head and push the door open and leave.

Usually, the good photos opportunities happened at night, so Riku had a chance to go home, shower, and change before nighttime snuck up on him. And that was when he found himself hanging out in front of Atlantica, which was rumored to be the celebutants' new favorite club. He surveyed the long line of paparazzi who had gathered near the wrought iron gates, and spied a flaming mass of red. He couldn't help but curse under his breath. Axel was once of the best out there, and he was a weasel. Though, Riku really couldn't fault the man's character. He was just doing his job, and that was exactly what Riku was doing.

_Flash. Flash. Flash. Flash. Flash._

It was customary to have pictures of the starlets going _in_ the club, and then the more notorious ones of them coming _out_ of the club completely wasted and causing havoc. Now that the first pictures had been taken, the photographers could either wait around for a couple of hours (getting wasted never took long) or they could take their chances and drive around for another location. Though leaving could cause problems because it could be hard to get the exact same spot as before. Generally, Riku didn't leave.

Until Axel grabbed his shoulder and murmured, "let me show you how to get the _real_ pictures."

They packed away the bigger cameras in favor of using smaller, more discreet digital cameras and then they were on their way sneaking into the club. Which wasn't as hard as Riku thought it would be. He simply had to show his ID to prove that he was at least twenty-one. (He was twenty-five, but that did not stop the little surge of masculinity at having to prove he was _legal_.) Though, he was certain they got in a little easier because Axel was smooth-talking the bouncer, but Riku couldn't hear exactly what was being said. He did see the passing of some hundreds and shook his head. Hell, he could barely afford rent let alone a tip for the bouncer.

Atlantica had a sea-theme, but Riku was not surprised. Back when he enjoyed watched Disney movies (last Saturday was a _fluke_, by the way) he remember vaguely that one of the movies had mermaids and water and something like that. Eighteen was too long ago to remember properly.

The walls were blue and painted with green seaweed with some brightly colored fish that Riku decided if they had been frogs they would be the deadly, poisonous kind. The lights that flashed gave the room a feel that they were underwater, and on several raised stages were women dressed as mermaids. All-in-all, Riku could totally see why the starlets were drawn to this place. It was bright, and interesting. He was pretty sure that he would come here if he had a billion dollar mother or father.

"Axel, you faggot, why haven't I seen you around?"

Riku spun around to stare wide-eyed at the redhead and his new blond companion. The kid was cute, Riku would give him that, but there was far too much _danger_ in the kid's stance. His feet were slightly apart and his arms folded across his chest. The posture seemed to scream defiance. It was humorous to see calm and collected Axel with his palms outward in a submissive posture. He was _afraid_ of this kid. Though, to be honest Riku would have been afraid of him too. He was not really hip on the culture, but he was pretty sure that this little hornet's nest was Roxas. Who was the lead singer of some all blond group called Oblivious… Oblivion… Obli… something. He only knew that because his little brother Yazoo had a poster of them in his room.

"You know how my job is, Roxy-Baby."

Riku couldn't help but snort in laughter and thankfully the pulsating music covered his snicker so neither the redhead or the blond would hear him. He was surprised about the exchange between Roxas and his coworker, because Axel had made it painfully clear that he was straight. Hell, the redhead could barely keep his hands off of the women in the office, but now that behavior seemed a little odd. Sure, Axel made comments and pretended to be a womanizer, but Riku was pretty sure that Axel had never actually mentioned _dating _a woman or _sleeping_ with one.

"Is that why you're here? So you can take pictures?"

Riku left his fumbling friend in favor of the bar. He'd let Axel work that little problem out. It was never a good idea to impose on any relationship. Especially if the members of said relationship were _talking_. Talking never meant talking. Talking should be called bitching. Riku had had his fair share of 'talkers.' Which was why he was beginning to find that he twitched every time he was set up with a man who acted like a woman. He didn't want a chick with a dick. He wanted a _man_. Relationships were about give and take not about _giving_ and _taking_ it.

Frankly, he was a bit of a conservative if that were possible. His family had been the white picket fence type. In all honesty, he wanted the American dream. A househusband, and lots of children. Well, all right. His husband could work if he wanted to, Riku wasn't _that_ conservative. He was homosexual for crying out loud. But, not that any of it mattered. His lovely country was far from legalizing gay marriage, even though it was making steps towards that.

They were making leaps and bounds actually. For the first time in history his state elected a homosexual governor. His name was Squall Leonhart and he looked like he wasn't fucking around. Riku was pretty sure Mr. Leonhart could hold his own if someone tried to jump him in an alleyway. Just the other day Squall was on the news and there had been a family picture of him, his partner and their two children. Riku couldn't remember the details on the children, only that there was a boy and a girl and the boy was about three or four years younger than him and the girl was seventeen, maybe? The same age or older than Yazoo.

"Hey! How hard is it think over the music?"

Riku couldn't help but jump in surprise. Someone was _speaking_ to him. In his ear! It was kind of cute, but it was totally the music's fault. Riku put his glass to his lips so he could use the pretense of drinking if he didn't want to reply to whoever was speaking to him. The liquid sloshed against his lips and _burned _down his throat. He'd completely forgotten to swallow and was now choking.

Concerned blue eyes watched him frantically search for breath, but it was so _hard_ to breath over a stinging throat, watering eyes and _that_ face. His nostrils flared and he continued to cough until he could finally take deep breaths and calm himself. Way to be smooth.

The guy's hand patted his back as he tipped his head closer. Riku put his hand on the brunet's chest so he could push him back just a little. It was easier to breath if he wasn't so close. It was bad enough he felt like the guy's blue eyes would swallow him whole.

"Hey, are you okay? I didn't mean to startle you like that."

"I-I'm," gasp, "fine."

The brunet looked dubious but sat on the stool next to Riku. He leaned forward and asked the bartender for a class of water for his _friend_. Riku was too busy watching his ass, and the arch of his body over the countertop to disagree. It wasn't like the guy was underdressed. He was wearing jeans and a black button-up shirt that was pressed and ironed. The kid was classy that much was certain. The crisp black shirt rode up enough to show the dip and curve of his sun-darkened belly, and Riku decided that he was in lust.

"Sorry about that," Blue Eyes sat on his stool properly much to Riku's dislike and pushed the glass in front of him. The photographer took the glass and drank enough to clear his burning throat. Kind _and_ cute.

Riku shook his head and tried to give a smile. Blue Eyes seemed to _brighten _just because he smiled. Oh yes, he was definitely falling head-over-heels in lust. This kid was probably terminally straight. That's how these things worked for Riku. It was called Murphy's Law. Anything that could go wrong _would_ go wrong.

"So you didn't answer me. How can you think with all this noise?"

He was still talking to him! Riku leaned forward, and instead of yelling over the music he spoke into his ear, "I don't know, but I'd rather be dancing in this noise." Now _that_ was smooth, and the brunet's lips split into a smile that few people could achieve. It was honest and full of mirth. Riku honestly hadn't met someone this _real_ in a long time. Or, the guy seemed real anyway. He didn't know anything about him besides he had blue eyes and a killer smile. Sometimes that was just enough.

Laughter, pure and unbroken angel's song. "I think I can help you with that," Blue Eyes stood from his perch on the stool and offered his hand for Riku to take. It was so unusual to see a guy as young as this one who knew what he wanted. Most of the time the baby-homos were still deciding on an identity and all of that. But, not this guy. Blue Eyes knew _exactly_ what he wanted and frankly, it was a turn-on. Riku followed him obediently to the edge of the dance floor.

It was when the brunet turned around and bumped his hips against Riku's that the silver haired photographer decided that this was quickly turning into the best night of his life. Lust did that to a guy's brain, and he was just a victim to his libido. Which explains why three songs later he had Blue Eye's lips captured with his own.

The kid was putty in his hands, and whimpered when Riku tried to breath. Not that he was complaining. It was then, that moment, that very _second_ that Riku slipped his hands into the top of Blue Eye's unbuttoned shirt, with their lips securely fastened together that Axel took the opportunity to take a picture.

"I have to go-- I have to go-- I have to go--" The brunet's mantra broke the kiss and Riku's concentration, as he shoved the photographer's chest. Riku was not into forcing a partner so he quickly relented and gave him a curious look. "My father is going to _kill_ me. K-I-L-L. Kill." How old was this kid? Riku dumbly followed the brunet's lead as he secured a warm hand around the cameraman's wrist and yanked him towards the bar. If the music had not been so loud, Riku would have swore he heard something about 'thank goodness I'm too old to ground' or something that sounded ridiculous. Like an oxymoron.

He watched with fascination as Blue Eyes leaned over the bar and took a pen from the bartender. That flash of stomach had Riku taking a step forward, but the brunet was not having any of it. He held Riku's palm out and took the cap of the pen off with his mouth. If the music had not remained at a constant volume the brunet could have heard his dance partner whimper as he rolled the pen's cap around with his tongue.

A kiss on his cheek, and bouncing brunet hair later, Riku realized that he would not be continuing that dance. As if he were a dehydrated man looking for water, he shoved the sleeve of his ribbed shirt upwards and sighed in relief. Blue Eyes' name was Sora, and he came with a phone number.

Riku looked over the bartender's shoulder and frowned. It was almost one o' clock in the morning. He had definitely lost the opportunity for a front page picture. Chalking it up to yet another reason why he should be photographing nature, the defeated cameraman halfheartedly looked for Axel on his way out to the car. Most of the starlets stayed an hour or two max in a club, and now Atlantica just had the average people that didn't cause scandal. He packed his camera way in his bag and cranked his car up. Eventually, Cid would get tired of his lack of production, and that would be the day he'd try something else. Until then, he was chasing someone else's dream.

"Riku, glad you decided to show up for work. 'Bout time, you lazy bastard. You'll like the front page. We had it rushed."

Riku blinked blearily and clutched his coffee as if it had the veil of the Virgin Mary in it, and had healing properties. For all he knew it could have had hallucinogens in it, because he certainly wasn't seeing things clearly. The _Traverse Times_ that Cid had dropped on the desk in front of him was certainly looking like one big hoax. There was Riku, and Blue Eyes and they were kissing. Right, he knew that much. He was there when that happened, and he was there when he replayed it in his dreams, but he certainly didn't know--

"I'm looking for _this_ guy."

"Who?"

"The _man_ that is _kissing_ my _son _in your picture."

"That would be him."

Traitorous backstabbers. Riku turned around to give Axel _and_ Cid and whatever protective father was there a piece of his (slightly groggy) mind. He didn't do anything wrong. He was just kissing the kid. Sure, not a lot of celebutants were gay, but people could deal and the Governor was gay too. Riku planned to open his mouth and welcome them all to the twenty-first-fucking-century but as soon as he realized _who_ was looking for him exactly, well, he forgot to breath.

"What the _hell_ is your problem kid. Trying to give Sora a bad name because his parents are openly homosexual? Are you just trying to mess with him? Because--"

"Whoa," Riku set his Styrofoam coffee cup to the side and held up his hands. That was probably something he should not have done because the intimidating Governor zeroed in on what was written on the palm of Riku's hand.

"Going back for seconds, huh?"

Confused, he held his hand closer so he could see it. There was Sora's number. This guy's kid's fucking phone number on his hand. It was like being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but far more dangerous because Squall looked like the kind of guy who would have him murdered and dumped for eating his cookies.

"What? N-no."

"You little--"

Riku was pretty sure he should have ducked and covered or stop, dropped, and rolled to get away from the enraged man, but he was fascinated by the man's agility even in a business suit as he jumped over Pence's desk. It was kind of like a train wreck to the photographer, as he couldn't quite look away. Not that he had to.

It didn't take but a second for Squall's fist to connect with his left eye.


	2. Chapter 2

**The characters featured belong to Square Enix. I'm a broke college kid that owns a computer named Toe and broken headphones. **

**Alana, you continue to do things to my spaceboots.**

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"Riku, maybe you shouldn't have kissed Squall Leonhart's son."

He was absolutely in agreement, and that information would have been handy last night. _Before_ he made the mistake. Instead of verbalizing an agreement he chose to groan and take the packaged peas from Axel's hands and press it to swollen flesh.

After Mr. Leonhart personally delivered his feelings on _dancing_ with his son, Axel had whisked Riku away and to his own apartment. The silver haired photographer could hear Squall's quiet outrage all the way to the door. It was strange being hunched over and hiding behind Axel because that was the exact position many starlets used to escape his very camera. Frankly, it was one more reason to quit his job.

"Yeah, got that part."

He really didn't need all of these reminders. He looked at his hand and sighed, growing increasingly irritated at the situation. Not only was his face plastered on the tabloids, but he'd been punched _and_ he'd lost Sora's phone number. He should have written it down, yeah, but the excitement of the day made him forget and now he was staring at murky numbers. Was that a five?

"Hey, the silver lining in your little rain cloud is uhh you got his phone number, right?"

Murphy's Law, hadn't he said something about that earlier? Riku clenched his hand and flattened the peas out on his countertop. As he turned around to lay his head down on the make-shift pillow his eyes caught the very paper that was fucking his life over. Axel stuck his head in the refrigerator and mumbled something about a beer, but Riku's eyes were frantically searching for photography credit. Axel popped the top on a coke instead and turned around, his own eyes falling on the paper.

They looked up at each other at the same time.

"Shit, man--"

"Get out of my apartment--"

"You've got to understand, Riku! It was a once in a lifetime opportunity! I had unadulterated access to the Leonhart kid doing something _wrong._ Everyone thinks he's a damn saint--"

"Out."

"Riku--"

"Axel, _you took that picture._ If you value your ability to copulate, you'd better get out of my apartment."

He opened his mouth as if to reply, or apologize, but decided against it and scooped up his keys instead. He didn't look back as he slammed the door shut, leaving a very wilted Riku. The troubled man practically slammed in head on the peas and the only comfort the frozen vegetables could give him was a wet smacking sound. Like the kind of kiss the great-aunt that bought him bad sweaters gave.

As if he really wanted to think about those peas resembling his great-aunt. She wasn't green, but she was cold, hard, and wrinkly. The visualization was giving him the willies. But really, where did that saying come from? Who was this Willy and why would anyone have him? Riku certainly did not want him.

Magically, and seemingly saving him from contemplating the worth of Axel's life, his phone began ringing.

_Love me hate me _

_Say what you want about me _

_But all of the boys and all of the girls are begging to--_

"Hello."

He poked the bag of peas and three or four of them squished with the pressure of his finger.

"Hey kid, it's Cid."

Riku could only grunt. He didn't have the heart to tell his editor that his phone had caller ID, and that most cell phones came with it so the blond didn't need to announce who he was. Cid, oblivious to the photographer's musings, continued to speak.

"Look, I hate to tell you this because you're a good kid. I mean, you don't really get the good pictures, but you're honest and eager and let's face it, kid, photographing crack-headed rich-bitches really aren't your thing--"

Somehow Riku already knew what Cid was going to say, but he remained silent and only grunted once or twice so the blond didn't think he'd hung up on him.

"I've never been good at these things so… maybe you should take a couple of weeks off, Riku. Go take some pictures outside or something. We both know that's what you'd rather be doing. Anyway, I'll see you in fourteen days. No earlier. Understand?"

Even Cid knew that this was not the world for him. He nodded in agreement, and after Cid repeated 'kid' about three times he realized that the man couldn't hear him so he muttered an affirmative and a promise to see the old geezer in a couple of weeks.

_Click._

He flipped his phone shut and slipped it into his pocket. So, time to reflect. He was a bachelor without a job, and nothing to do. What would any normal bachelor do? Probably, the very thing that got him in this trouble, go to Atlantica. Or some second rate club. He really couldn't do that though, he had a black eye for crying out loud.

Well, he only had one option left and that involved popcorn, a coke, and a movie. Preferably a movie that would make him feel better. Something like _Fight Club_ or _Pulp Fiction_. Yeah, a nice man movie. Except Axel had _Pulp Fiction _and he wasn't sure where _Fight Club_ was hiding. He had a terrible habit of taking the DVD out of the player and putting it in the empty case of the movie he was about to watch. That was how he lost most of his movies and the exact reason why he was putting _Never Been Kissed_ in the player, not because he liked it or anything.

And that was how he spent his first week of vacation. He split his time up by cooking, laying around, watching movies, cursing Axel's existence and laying around. He took a couple of showers and brushed his teeth because he would rather not have his fire alarm go off and then be caught looking nasty and gross in public. But, it was because he'd done nothing but mope around that he decided to suck it up and go get some coffee. Certainly, someone else had made a fool of themselves on the tabloids and the coast was clear.

He doubted anyone would recognize him anyway.

"Mocha frappé, please." Well, to be safe he brought a newspaper along so he could hide behind it. The blender sounded somewhere behind him, and he curled one edge of the paper down with his forefinger so he could look across the street. He liked the sounds of cars going by, and people chatting on their cell phones. Riku was definitely a creature of this concrete jungle.

How was he supposed to be a photographer of the wild? How was he supposed to capture the essence of nature and the ambiance of life if _this_ was all he knew?

He folded the paper neatly, and reached down to grab his digital camera from his bag. What if _this_ was his African safari? What if _this_ was his Sargasso Sea? He rubbed the pad of his finger over the camera's silver buttons and watched the screen flicker to life. He held his breath and held the camera to his eye. Most people used the LCD screen for reference, but Riku preferred the old way of doing things. So, he used the viewer and clicked the capture button.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The fourth picture revealed something that he had not expected to see. Someone, rather. Standing across the street at the hotdog vendor was a nightmare in flesh form. A nightmare and a wet dream. He slowly lowered the camera and cradled it in his lap. The barista returned with his drink and placed it on the square napkin to his left and picked up the money and tip. She left as quietly as she'd come, but Riku ceased to notice anything but chocolate spikes and blue eyes.

The wind picked tendrils of his silver hair and whipped them harshly against his cheeks as if to remind him that the kid spelled danger. Riku flipped the irritating strands over his shoulder and they joined their brethren, tamed into a ponytail.

He wanted to cross the street and speak to him, but would Sora be mad because he hadn't called? Would Blue Eyes yell at him and ask him to kindly stop walking on the street before he called his father? Riku's hand slapped his sunglasses and hastily yanked them upwards so he could shove them on. The bridge of his nose cried out and began to throb, but Riku hunkered down and stuck the assaulted nose into the paper.

Five minutes was a good sign, right? That meant that Sora had not noticed him and he was probably on the way home to psychotic daddy.

"You're a real asshole, you know that?"

It was like a bad game of hide-and-seek and Sora won. The brunet flattened the paper so he could see the photographer's face. Riku sat up stiffly and frowned. Blue Eyes was drinking _his_ mocha. Did this kid's parents ever teach him any manners? Instead of answering him immediately, he smoothed the crumpled paper and watched with morbid fascination as Sora sat in the chair adjacent to him.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, Bl-- Sora."

He pulled the sunglasses off and tossed them on top of the paper. Immediately he pressed two fingers to his temples and tried to rub in a counterclockwise motion. Sora's silence had him looking up in curiosity. Riku was completely caught off guard by the brunet's fish-mouthed expression. His pretty blue eyes were wide, and his mouth formed into a horrified 'O' shape.

"What happened to you! Please don't tell me you're a straight guy stuck in a g--"

"No, nothing like that." How could he tell him that it was _his_ daddy-o that had gave him his shiner? He leaned forward and snatched the mocha from Sora's hands and tried not to smile at the adorable whimper that followed. "But, for future reference… maybe you should tell the guys you kiss that you're Squall Leonhart's kid."

Realization struck Blue Eyes and he immediately looked away and out to the street. The naughty breeze kicked up again and his brunet spikes swayed contently, almost as if they were sighing. Caught in the moment, Riku lifted his camera and shifted through a few settings until he found the one he wanted and snapped the picture.

He didn't have to view the picture again to know that it was beautiful. This kid had an amazing profile with his eyes half squinting as if he was searching for something far off. The wind was just _right_ and seemed to flirt with Sora. Behind him would be half of a hotdog stand and a wrought iron table with a half empty glass of some coffee. Blue Eyes was just another creature in this modern jungle and Riku had captured him perfectly.

"So, you didn't call me because my dad tried to kill you?" Sora's soft voice was almost lost to the breeze, but Riku caught it before it slipped away. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Basically."

"Oh." Blue Eyes paused for a moment and then gave the photographer one of those honest smiles. "Does that mean you wanted to call me?"

"I _still_ want to call you." It was then that Riku decided that he would take a couple more black eyes if Sora would just smile like _that_ again. The brunet leaned forward and swiped Riku's drink once more and sat back sucking on the straw contently. Eyes like those could damn a man.

"Well good, because I don't give my number to just anyone."

Riku wondered if Sora told all the boys that. Instead, he stood and returned his camera to his bag and shouldered it. Blue Eyes held out the empty plastic glass and Riku dutifully threw it in the garbage. Without being invited the brunet stood up too, and walked beside him with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

They walked in silence for several parked cars before Riku bumped his hip with Sora's. He grinned again and hooked his arm through Riku's so he could pull him closer-- almost tucking the photographer against his side.

"So Riku, what do you do? What's your profession?"

His job was not something he really wanted to talk about, and he stiffened slightly at the question. Sora frowned and shook his head, "never mind. Let's not talk about anything personal." Did Blue Eyes seem deflated? Did he find man after man only to discover that they weren't really gay, and whatever moment they had shared had been a complete fluke? An anomaly?

A few more moments of silence passed and the tension in Riku's shoulders finally dissipated. He squeezed Sora's arm once and nudged them to the right side of the pathway.

"I kind of got laid off, so my job is a sore spot for conversation." Sora nodded in understanding. Did Riku see relief in those impossible depths? "Instead, tell me something about you."

"Well, there isn't really anything about me that I can say. I… I've got to be careful because of my dad's office so I'm generally not allowed to say anything except I'm an art major at my university. Which I cannot tell you the name of because my university doesn't want to be overran by hate crimes. It's hard to be gay. It's scary, and the university just wants to protect the rest of its students."

Riku could respect that. He had never denied his orientation, but he had not flaunted it either. People were strange creatures and he never understood them. Cid and Axel had known, but that was it. His editor had not wanted their paper to be targeted because it chose to hire and publish content regardless of orientation. Cid was a firm believer in equal rights. He wasn't one of those 'let's-hold-hands' kind of guy, but he thought hatred was a waste of time and he didn't want any of that shit in his office. Riku couldn't help but smile fondly. It'd been a week and already he missed his editor.

"That's fine, Sora. I will take whatever you will give me," Riku paused at black gate and rested his back against it. Sora slowed and paused too, but his hip rested subtly against the photographer's.

"Really?"

"Yes. Don't look so shocked, kid."

"Yeah," Blue Eyes smiled again and brushed his hand through his hair from back to front which made his spikes stand higher in attention. "But anyway, since something might happen to you before you can call me, I wanted to ask you what you were doing tomorrow?"

He laughed but really couldn't object to Sora's quip about something happening to him. For all he knew Squall Leonhart could bust through his window at night and try to strangle him. Great, that meant that Riku was going to have nightmares about the governor of his great state. Sora looked over Riku's shoulder and at the door that led to the apartments. The photographer immediately decided that he didn't like the unsure look in the brunet's eyes.

Impulsively, he touched three fingers to Sora's chin and gently pushed it upwards so he could look into his eyes. Riku didn't know what he was looking for but his searched the deep blue. The breeze chose that moment to make its presence known and when Riku touched his lips to Sora's his hair fluttered and danced around them. His thick wool jacket couldn't keep his body warm against the stubborn wind, but his face felt flushed.

It wasn't one of those movie kisses where he pulled Blue Eyes to him and melded their lips together, and it wasn't one of those lusty kisses where he put his hands in Sora's shirt. It was one of those chaste, locking kisses that held the promise of something deeper and permanent.

Sora was the first to lean away and inhale the chilly air. Riku couldn't help but smile a little and look away. It was as if they were both sixteen and fumbling over kisses and condom wrappers.

"I'm hanging out with you, don't you remember?" Riku touched his forefinger to Sora's chin once more before stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Oh silly me, how could I forget." They shared a laugh, and Sora opened the gate and let Riku precede him up the stairs. Blue Eyes stopped at the first step and watched the photographer turn around and rest his left hand against the door handle. "Really though, I'll come pick you up at six. Is that okay? Don't eat, Riku."

The silver haired man nodded once and murmured a goodbye. He didn't actually walk into the apartment until chocolate spikes disappeared around the corner, and he could breathe again.


End file.
